Happy Birthday, Garrus
by Apathyisdeath
Summary: A very short one-shot. Garrus has faced many troubles in his time, but a birthday party on the Normandy? Oh, no. Contains a drunken Liara, Garrus' Normandy fangirl posse and presents! Oh, and Shepard knits. As usual, not serious at all.


_A/N: It seems that I have been unable to write anything serious recently. But who doesn't love Garrus, and who doesn't love birthdays? So, yeah._  
**Happy Birthday, Garrus**  
_"You're the birthday, you're the birthday, you're the birthday boy or girl!"_  
~Some robots on The Simpsons.

Garrus edged stealthily around the corner of the Normandy and slipped into the engineering section. If he could decipher the sound of his own breathing from the whirring of the drive core, it would surely be ragged. The space was completely devoid of Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, and the turian had a sneaking suspicion he knew why. He tried to blend into the walls almost, so as to not be spotted for what he was about to do. Garrus melded into the nearest wall, attempting to edge through to his usual post by the Mako.

He assured himself that he looked pathetic; especially the reason why he was doing this._ Flomp. _He had walked right into what he been trying to avoid._ Oh no_. Shepard was grinning up at him insanely. Garrus sighed in defeat, and the woman's eyes lit up in her victory. She had acquired quite a posse of various crew members behind her. A sizeable amount of human females, he noted.

"Yes!" Shepard yelled, clapping her hands together in celebration. A cheery looking Liara tentatively stepped out to the front of the posse and patted Garrus awkwardly on the arm.

"Happy birthday." She stated, as if the words were unused and foreign to her. After a long second or two of silence, Shepard coughed through the awkwardness. Garrus took a moment to let himself know that he had failed. No quiet leave-me-alone birthday for him this year. _Damn_.

*****

Garrus had never really been familiar with human culture, but he knew from personal experience what a birthday meant to them. Drinking, loud music and brief nudity. Or was the latter something to do with marriage ceremonies? Anyway, he knew partly what he was in for. Shepard had already took it upon herself to sing some sort of celebatory song to him, with rather obscene lyrics.

For some reason, he had let himself be led into the mess by the birthday posse. It had been gaudishly festooned with a couple of eye-watering decorations here and there, and Shepard had assured him on the way he would not regret it.

*****

Shepard had taken it upon herself to guard the alcohol. For someone who grew up on the city streets with a rough-tough gang, she was not excellent at holding her alcohol. She had treated herself to a thimble or two of scotch before the actual celebrations had begun, just to lighten the mood. She would prefer to have just a bit more of the whiskey she had been nursing before advancing the party.

By "advancing" the party, Shepard meant that no one was exactly in a party mood at the moment. The "guests" (which were just tired members of the Normandy) were sipping drinks and socialising for the moment. Shepard had given them a few days off before official shore leave, and they deserved it after the recent defeat of Saren. Shepard toasted them all silently and glugged on her whiskey.

*****  
It had been almost two and a half hours since Shepard had dragged Garrus here. He had been counting. Everyone was looking a bit worse for wear. The humans on board were starting to get through different stages of drunkeness (rather comically) and Garrus rather ashamedly enjoyed watching it.

Shepard was at the stage of next to no inhibitions, surely clutching whomsoever she could get her hands on. A rather sober Alenko had taken her fancy, Garrus noted, as she tried to keep herself upright with an arm around his neck. She reminded Garrus of an old sea pirate, hopping around on a peg leg. He almost laughed at that.

At that thought, she wove her way over to him, still clutching a nearly-empty glass in her fingers. When she arrived, she giggled and threw something at his face. It was some sort of...parcel. He must have been looking at it oddly as he held it in his hands.

"Ya 'sposed to open it, dummie!" Commander Jane Shepard chuckled incredulously, stopping only to pat the face of an unconcious crew member who lay face-up across the seats of the table. Alenko looked sheepish and smiled at Garrus as he wrestled with the wrapping. _What the...? _Now he had opened it, Shepard threw her gift around his shoulders.

"It's a scarf!" She giggled. Both Garrus and Kaidan looked at her in amazement. "I know how to knit, ya know. It's for keeping your big ol' neck warm!"

Garrus chuckled at the thought of him wearing the garish orangle and yellow number she had spent time on, and perhaps some sort of matching bobble hat.  
"Since when do you knit?" Kaidan asked, as if the idea was unthinkable. He had the image of Shepard in a rocking chair, grey hair and knitting a scarf for young Garrus.

"I knit! Lots. I don't really know how to..."

Loud music blared through every sense, and Shepard clapped her hands together once, a pensive look on her face.

"This is my _favourite_ song!" She whooped. Kaidan rolled his eyes and laughed.  
"Every song has been your favourite song," he sighed. Shepard waved him off and slung her other arm, the arm holding the alcohol, around Garrus' still-scarfed neck.

"Come on, Garrus. Have a drink of old Shepard's fun-liquor!" She offered him the tumbler. "It's guaranteed fun."

As she said this, a rather queasy-looking Liara stumbled past them, hand over mouth, in the direction of somewhere quieter. She gave Shepard a rather accusing look, and mumbled something about her not saying about this happening.

Shepard unhooked her arms laboriously (Kaidan rubbing his neck from the time it had been there) and spun to face Garrus.  
"Garrus. How old are you this year?" She asked, slurring. "Because I remember an old tradition involving birthday bumps..."

Shepard trailed off, danger in her voice. Garrus was not familiar with the tradition, but it sounded painful. Best not tell them his real age. Shepard grinned at him once again.  
"Don't worry, Garrus, I know it was yer birthday because I'm nosy and know when everyone's birthday is," Shepard lowered her voice. "There is no escape from...birthday bumps!"

Cackles could be heard from around the room.  
"But!" Shepard announced. "I have never seen a drunk turian, before."  
She brandished a sloshing bottle at him.  
_**  
The End...or is it merely the beginning?**_


End file.
